My London

I'm in my London. My London smells, it's crowded and busy, it's got lots of people, it's got fashion and noise. It's got money, poverty. It's got tubes and buses and cabs. It's got cafes, restaurants, pubs and hospitals. It's got family and friends. It's got parks and schools.
It is my London and it's home.

My London knows me and looks after me. I have love all around me, the familiarity is like a blanket on a chilly night. It gives me confidence and freedom and I love it.

I had my scan, I spent that time thinking how lucky I am. My nurse made sure I had a scan. Not in my first hospital but my other one. I was asked the list of questions, I answered them confidently, reminded them of the contrasting fluid. I asked for a blanket.
The next day I went to my hospital for bloods and I was greeted in the ward by my first name. We caught up then too. We agreed the new health secretary looked like he was going to be a big a arse hole as the last one.
That bits now done.

My boys

How do you write about them?
My boys, the ones who got mixed up in it all.
One definitely missing and one definitely dead. My boys.
I wish I was still able to try and be part of a solution. But what a joke. I've got more chance of saving Malawi.
I think of them and I worry about them.
Here I can do nothing.
My boys.

Places and the past

I'm in Angel
Travelling home in an uber. This place holds lots of happy memories and many bus journeys. It seems to have a draw.